


It Has Begun

by ChipOfftheOldSoul



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Death Eaters, Good Slytherins, Legilimency, Occlumency, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abandonment, Post-War, Potterwatch, Second War with Voldemort, Spying, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, but not all of them, starts during the war but will extend to post war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 02:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7740091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChipOfftheOldSoul/pseuds/ChipOfftheOldSoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dark Lord is gaining power, Albus Dumbledore is dead, the Order of the Phoenix is scrambling and the Boy Who Lived is nowhere to be found. Unfortunately, the rest of us still have a war to survive and people to protect. So bring it on, U-No-Poo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Has Begun

**Author's Note:**

> Who has a final paper due in eight hours? Who has cleaning checks in twelve hours? Who also has another fic in progress? Me, but I'm ignoring those facts in order to bring this to the table. Enjoy!
> 
> I began writing this character in her first year at Hogwarts in a fic titled "The Muggleborn Slytherin", but realized that all the bits I wanted to write took place during the war...so I skipped ahead a bit. I've left the first story up, for now, in case I have the urge to go back and keep writing or do character development or whatever, but reading that is not necessary to understand this.
> 
> Title is taken from Starset's song by the same name.

The graduation ceremony was a far more somber event than most years were. That tends to happen when the headmaster is murdered only two weeks before. His funeral had been held a few days after his death and the Hogwarts Express had taken everyone home immediately after. The only ones who returned were the seventh year graduates a week and a half later and even many of them had stayed home. These were dark times and the frivolity of a graduation ceremony was almost pathetically laughable when the Ministry was sending out pamphlets on dementor attacks and wards for home protection. Even Fred and George had trouble turning it all into a joke these days. They managed, though, because people needed them to.

Skylar had stubbornly refused to sit out her own graduation ceremony. She had done well, dammit, and she was not going to let Albus Dumbledore’s death overshadow her efforts. She had crossed an ocean as a twelve-year-old—granted that hadn’t entirely been her own choice—she had learned Legilimency and Occlumency from the nastiest man she had ever met—who incidentally was the man who murdered the late-headmaster—and she had helped create a business—one of the few on Diagon Alley that was still thriving. There was no way in hell she was letting this moment of recognition slip past her, no matter how few people were actually in attendance, no matter how small it seemed in the face of a war. Her family was there, most of it at least, seeing her standing out and that was all that mattered.

Molly sat with Arthur’s arm around her shoulders and she sniffled into an embroidered handkerchief. Arthur, despite everything that had happened, held his wife and beamed proudly up at the graduates. Bill, only just released from Madam Pomfrey’s care and still covered in bandaged scars, held his fiancé’s hand and smiled as warmly as the newly scar-stretched skin would allow him. Fleur’s self-assured determination was as inspiring as her unparalleled beauty and it warmed all those in the room. Ginny, having fought valiantly with her mother for the opportunity to attend, stole quick waves whenever she caught Skylar’s eye. Fred and George were the most vivid of the pack though. When the new Headmistress McGonagall called for “French, Skylar” to come collect her diploma, Fred and George Weasley jumped to their feet and led their siblings in a rousing chant of “She is free! She is free! She is free!”

For once, Minerva McGonagall said nothing of the twins’ antics and instead focused her attention on Skylar. “Congratulations, Miss French,” she said. “You have done exceptionally well here, no matter the circumstances that brought you. You have grown so much since that scared girl I met in America and have become a woman I look forward to working with in the future. Well done.” Skylar stood, pleasantly stunned, as she shook the headmistress’ hand and murmured, she hoped, an appropriate ‘thank you’. Minerva’s eyes crinkled with humor and she added, “Just, please, don’t encourage my students with your pranks too much.”

“Oh, I would never, Professor,” Skylar demurred on a startled laugh and Minerva pressed her lips into a thin line, concealing a smile, before turning to announce “McClaggen, Cormac” and Skylar moved down the line of professors for handshakes. The absence of her head of house and Legilimency mentor felt obvious, the thin, sneering man who gladly hung himself in shadows, replaced by the fat, jovial potions professor who pumped her hand heartily and secured her insincere promise to keep in touch.

With so many missing, the ceremony wrapped up quickly, closing with a few final words from the headmistress. “Many who should be here with us today are not,” she said. “This is cause for sadness and, in many cases, mourning. Our community now revisits a threat we had long hoped to be vanquished and remembers the terrors we experienced before. In the coming times, there will be pain and heartache. There will be trials and struggling. None of us will come out of the this unchanged and, in fact, I do not hope any of you will. Instead, I hope each of you will change for the better and increase in talent, strength, integrity and compassion. I hope each of you will become a beacon to those around you—your families, your friends and those whom you do not yet know.

“Each of you who have been presented with your diplomas today now enter the world as qualified adults. You will not feel qualified. You will be scared; you will be tested. Do not break. Hold fast. Hold to those whom you love and to those whom love you. Protect them and guide them with whatever resources you have available. While here at school, you have enjoyed the competition of a friendly—and at times unfriendly—rivalry. Leave that at school. You must now band together, regardless of personal beliefs, talents and connections, because if you value peace, hope and life, you must trust in others. It is only with the support and love of those around us that we can succeed. I beg each of you to support those you can and encourage those you cannot. Tread carefully and stay safe. I expect each of you to visit me when I retire.” With a small smile for the audience, Headmistress McGonagall held her hands wide. “Class of 1997, I congratulate you.”

A smattering of applause announced the close of the ceremony and a few students dared to toss their pointed hats into the air. With a few more handshakes and hugs around, several families hurried to leave, intent on returning to their heavily warded homes while few lingered, huddled together and giving one another furtive smiles like gifts. “Well, this is fun,” someone muttered in her ear and Skylar spun to find Joshua Millet, his hands held up and a half smile dropping on his face. She relaxed and dropped her wand and let him pull her into a hug where she clung tightly. “Promise we’ll still see one another?” he asked. “That we’ll support and encourage and band together and all that?”

“Of course,” she left her hand on his shoulder as she pulled away. “As long as you don’t get so busy with Healers’ Training that you forget about me.”

“Yeah, sure. You’ll be so busy keeping the joke shop running that you won’t have time for any of us, but you’ll become fabulously wealthy all the same.” Skylar chucked and poked at his cheek, trying to keep them both smiling though this felt like a farewell. Help people smile and be happy. That was her job now. She could do that much, right?

“Owl me,” she said. “No matter what, just to let me know you’re safe. Or if you need anything. And let me know if you see Isaac, yeah?”

“Of course,” he promised. A woman in the crowd called, catching Joshua’s attention. “That’s my mum,” he said. “I’d better go.” This time, she dragged him into a hug and he hunched over her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “It’ll be all right,” he lied and with a final squeeze, he turned and left. She didn’t have long to look after him, bombarded at last by the red heads.

Molly came first, as always, tugging Skylar down into her arms. “We’re so proud of you dear,” she said. “You’ve done so well!”

“Beat us by a long shot,” Fred teased.

“What did you expect of our little intellectual?” George asked.

Fleur ignored the twins and leaned forward to give Skylar a quick kiss on either cheek and “Congratulations.”

“All done, then? Going to go and leave me on my own?” Ginny smiled, her hug tight. Skylar glanced at Molly who was as yet unaware of Ron’s plans to follow Harry and Hermione on whatever journey was in store for them, but the Weasley matron didn’t seem to notice the small slip.

“Never fear,” Skylar said instead. “You forget; I know where all the secret passages in and out of the castle are. You could never escape me.” Arthur put an arm over her shoulders as the family began to herd itself out to the nearest apparition point.

“And now, on to the real world, yeah?” Bill announced. Skylar looked across the valley below. Fog was coalescing despite the late summer afternoon and the burn of the faded Dark Mark could still be felt from the top of the Astronomy Tower. Voices of the families around them were hushed and their steps hurried. No one stood on their own.

“I thought we had already been there,” Skylar said, effectively stamping out whatever lightheartedness there had been.

 

That evening, Molly and organized a small feast in celebration of Skylar’s graduation and all those in attendance made an effort to ignore the no longer silent war happening outside the property’s wards, despite the fact that several Order members had popped up at the already full house to deliver news and pass messages. When dinner finished, Fred, George and Skylar debuted their recently enhanced fireworks collection and even Lee Jordan expressed his amazement at how much they had improved since the previous year.

“Fred and George wanted to see if we could make them more precise so that they could be timed for planned shows,” Skylar explained.

“And Skylar wanted to see if we could make them silent so that the shows could be set to music without being off-beat or distracting—”

“—And, in the process of all that, everything got bigger.” Fred and George had their arms looped around Skylar’s waist and she smiled from between them.

“Doesn’t everything when you two are involved?” Lee asked, shaking his head. He ought to know, after all, he had lived with them for seven years. Their retorts were cut off though when Bill pulled their help in clearing up the blankets everyone had laid out on the grass and they left. “But honestly, congratulations, Yankee. What are your plans now?”

“I’ll be working at the shop, of course. There’s not quite as much business as before, but still enough to keep us busy and plenty of projects to work on for future products. I’ll be moving over to the flat tomorrow.” Lee’s eyes had widened a bit as he looked over at the Weasley matriarch who was sharply directing the dinner cleanup.

“And Mrs. Weasley doesn’t mind?” he whispered.

“’Course she does,” Skylar laughed. Molly minded quite a lot for a whole list of reasons. First off, she wanted all her family to still be living at home, and had been quite upset when the twins had refused to leave their little flat above the shop. Second, even though Skylar had been living with the Weasleys as a foster daughter and sister for five years, Molly thought it unseemly for her to live with the twins alone. Thirdly, Molly didn’t approve of the fact that Skylar was pursuing her position as one of the wheeze creators at Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes when she had been offered positions at the Ministry as well as several prestigious magical crafting and inventing firms. Fourthly, despite the fact that she could not deny its success, Molly still heartily disapproved of the joke shop as a whole, especially in light of the fact that many of the products made light of the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. Fifthly, well, her list was endless and Skylar usually changed the subject around that point. “But what can she do about it? We’re all adults.” Lee shook his head.

“I’m sure she loves that excuse.”

“Not a bit,” Skylar grinned. “What are you up to these days? Still working for the music station?”

"Yeah, it’s a bit slow though.” Lee’s shoulders slumped and he rubbed the back of his neck as he shuffled towards the house. “I want to be doing something, you know. Not just shuffling through old records and taking calls.”

“You’ve got to establish yourself in the industry first, though,” she reminded him. “Get the layout, figure out how everyone else fits into the framework and then secure your spot there as well.” Running his own radio station had been Lee’s plan since his fifth year when Professor McGonagall had recommended it during his career planning meeting with her, citing his experience commanding attention when commentating at Quidditch games. He had grand plans, but first, he had to start at the bottom of the pile as an assistant for an outdated music station. After a full year of that and little rise in position or pay, Lee was getting disheartened. “It’ll work out,” Skylar promised again and they settled onto one of the living room couches, “you’ve just got to find your niche.”

“Sure, sure,” Lee said, eyes focused on the wizard chess match between Ron and Hermione, not taking in a single bit of it. Not knowing how to comfort him, Skylar rested her head on his shoulder and they sat together until the rest of the guests began to make their goodbyes.

“It was good to see you again, Skylar,” Remus said, carefully holding the hand of a once again magenta-haired Tonks. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you, Remus,” Skylar said and pulled herself up to give the surprised man a hug. They had all had a difficult time since the Dark Lord returned, but Remus perhaps most of all. He had watched his best friend die, been forced to live and consistently revisit his worst fear brought on by a long ago childhood trauma, his mentor had been murdered by someone he had been told to trust and, on top of everything, he had been pushed into a relationship he did not want. Not that Tonks wasn’t a wonderful girl, but their new and fast-paced relationship made Skylar uncomfortable as she heard the mental conflict going back and forth in Remus’ head. She turned to hug Tonks. “Take care, you two. Keep us updated on…everything”

“Of course,” Tonks promised, adding with a wink, “Good luck with those twins of yours.” The mismatched couple left and Skylar said her goodbyes to the other few Order members who had not already departed. Lee flooed home after promising to come visit the flat in a few days and the Burrow fell oddly quiet.

Ron and Hermione were whispering to each other, the chess game between them forgotten and the pieces dozing. Ginny was curled up on an armchair with Crookshanks in her lap, contentedly petting the irritable ginger puff. Bill and Fleur had gone for a late night walk and were sure to come back with red faces and mussed hair. Arthur had been called into work to consult on a small case, now always on call thanks to his promotion. Molly could be heard humming to herself as she set the kitchen to rights. Skylar wandered around until she found Fred and George on the back step with Moody, shit-eating grins spread across their faces as they riled the auror up.

“So if we were to—”

“—hypothetically, of course—”

“—set off some of our spectacular fireworks—”

“—while on patrol—”

“—that could be considered—”

“—somewhat—”

“—just a little bit—”

“—bad?” They said the last word in unison, eyes wide and mischievous as Moody’s fake eye darted and spun frantically.

"That would be a dragon shit ton more that ‘bad’!” he roared. “You would be giving away your positions and while I don’t care one fucking bit about two leprechauns like you, you’d ruin weeks worth of plans!”

“But think of how dramatic it would be, Al,” George teased. “All the pretty lights. We could even time it now, you know, put together a whole choreography for you all to fight to.” Alastor’s face was changing quickly from maroon to puce and he opened his mouth to lecture more before Skylar interrupted.

“They’re joking, Moody,” she said, but he didn’t look convinced, keeping one eye on each twin. It looked vaguely worrying. “Fred and George would never compromise a mission. They just want to rile you up.” The furrow in his brow increased, but Alastor finally limped a step back, crossing his arms heavily.

“You’re certain, are you?” he demanded.

“Positive.”

“Hrrmph. Well, they had better not or I’ll mangle them more than any Death Eater ever could.”

“Yes, Al,” the twins chorused obediently, eyes still sparkling. Alastor was not pleased.

“You’ll be joining these two then, to keep them in line and properly sober. There’s nothing like too much mirth to blow my operation.”

The twins changed in a moment. Spines straightening and shoulders tensing, they tried to press together and shield the older man’s view of the shorter blond girl. “No.” She dug her elbows into their sides and wedged them out of her way.

“Yes,” she disagreed. “I’ll go.”

George’s retort was cut off by Alastor’s gruff voice. “Good. I’ll owl you your schedule. Thank you mother for dinner for me,” he added and turned, stomping his way down the dirt path to the edge of wards. They all remained still and silent until they heard his crack of apparition.

“Inside, now,” Fred grabbed her wrist and dragged her back inside, George following closely after and all of them ignored Ron, Ginny and Hermione’s looks as they passed through the living room to the stairs. None of them said a word until they were in the twins’ room with the door closed and perfunctory silencing charms thrown up. “You told us last year you don’t want to join the Order,” Fred accused. “What changed?

“Nothing,” Skylar shrugged. “Nothing changed.”

“So why are you letting Mad Eye boss you around like that?” George asked. His anger was quieter than Fred’s, but no less visible. “If you don’t want to join the Order, don’t join the Order and don’t let Moody shove you around like that.” She looked back and forth between the twins and shook her head in exasperation. It was just like them, she thought, to think that you either acted or didn’t act because you wanted to, when in fact reality was never that black and white.

The year before, when the three of them were lounging around Grimmauld Place, still barred from Order meetings, they had talked about what grand schemes the Order must be plotting. The twins had had stars in their eyes. They said that as soon as they graduated, they would join up, and nothing their mum said could stop them. And they had followed through. After they ran—flew—away from Hogwarts, Dumbledore had approached them in their little shop, complimented their Skiving Snackboxes and invited them to the very next meeting. For months, they had been given late night patrol shifts over safe houses and they had poured over intercepted letters from known Death Eaters. Order members had free access to the joke shop’s more helpful products and they kept brainstorming more. Fred and George were protecting people, just like they had always bloody wanted to.

But when they had asked Skylar if she wanted to join, she had said, “No.”

Neither Fred nor George had ever pushed her or demeaned her or tried to tell her that she should do more to fight You-Know-Who. It was just a fact. Skylar did not want to join the Order, now does anyone have any idea how to package a Disillusionment Charm because it would be an excellent product for the Eavesdropping line-up.

“I said I didn’t want to join to Order, not that I didn’t intend to. There’s a difference and for two such discerning individuals, you seem to have missed it.” Their glares lessened somewhat turning into something more akin to frustration, but they weren’t yet done with their interrogation.

“Why would you join if you don’t want to?” Fred asked. “If you aren’t giving the Order your all, you’ll die and so could others. You know as well as anyone that this isn’t a war you can fight half-heartedly.”

George dropped himself onto the bed next to her. “At least promise that you’re not just joining up because we are,” he said.

“Not exactly.” When both men opened their mouths to argue, she held up a hand, gesturing for silence while she thought of how best to explain. “If you lot—you two and mum and Arthur and all the rest of you Weasleys—weren’t involved, I wouldn’t be either. I would probably go back to America where it’s safe, for now, and wait the war out. If you’d let me, I drag you all along with me.” She had tried in fact. For days Skylar had begged Molly to at least let her take Ginny with her somewhere safe, but Molly was adamant that her family stay together for as long as possible. “But you will all be fighting. Mum and Arthur have been in the war since the beginning so they’re not going to pull out now. Bill and Charlie still remember the first war clearly so they won’t stop either. Ron will follow Harry to the ends of the earth because he’s too loyal to leave his best friend to fight alone and no one in their right mind thinks that Ginny is going to be peacefully cooperative through all this.

“And you two with help anyone you can until your both too beaten up and stamped down to lift a finger. And even then you’ll keep cracking jokes! So, yes, I’m fighting too. Because there’s no way in hell I’m leaving any of you to fight on your own. You’ll be dead in a week and I will not survive that.” She was scowling and she forced the muscles in her forehead to relax. Finger by finger her fists unclenched as well and she reclined, resting her weight on her palms like it was any other casual evening.

“Dead within a week, you said?” Fred arched a brow.

“Well it’s good to see you have so much confidence in us,” George nudged her. Skylar stuck her tongue out, but said nothing. She didn’t like expending emotion on the war. She knew it would only leave her exhausted.

Fred sat himself against the headboard of the now crowded twin-sized bed and as if by verbal agreement, they all collapsed against one another in a jumble of limbs. With her head on George’s shoulder, she could see out the window, but clouds had rolled in during the past few hours and it was impossible to see the stars. Instead she closed her eyes and listened her boys’ quiet breathing, letting the familiar rhythms steady her. Despite what most might think, Fred and George were very conscientious about everything they did. Their rambunctiousness was planned, their risks were calculated, and they held moments of relaxation in high esteem.

“You know,” Fred said after a while. “With everything going on today, we never did get to give you our present.”

“Present? What present?” Skylar perked up. George chuckled, but neither moved from their places.

“We thought we might give you a visit home, Yankee,” George said instead and she tilted her head toward him.

“Home, like—?” She left the destination unsaid.

“America,” the twins said together.

“You’ve been wanting to check on your family,” George said.

“And we want to see where little Skylar grew up,” Fred teased. Skylar’s breath had gotten itself caught somewhere between desire and fear.

“You know they won’t want to see me,” she said. Unconsciously, she burrowed herself deeper into George’s shoulder and rested her hand on Fred’s ankle.

“Maybe not,” Fred agreed.

“But you want to see them.”

“The trip is about you—”

“—and you’ve been worrying about them lately.”

How could she not? There was a war brewing, just getting ready to erupt violently, and her dad, step-mother and younger siblings were across an entire ocean and a country. Hopefully that distance would keep them from even knowing about the war, but if it somehow spread to their little backwoods town…they were nomages, they wouldn’t be able to protect themselves. They were the other, more secret cause she would always fight for. The Dark Lord himself would have to go through her to reach them.

“Thank you,” she said.

 

Molly eventually came and found them, of course shuffling her out of Fred and George’s room and into the room she had shared with Ginny for five years. Ginny and Hermione were already there, Ginny feeding Arnold, her pet Pygmy Puff, before bed, and Hermione sorting through a seemingly endless stack of books just as she had been for the last two nights.

“Are you sad to be leaving us?” Ginny grinned flopping down on Skylar’s bed rather than her own. “You know you’re going to miss us.”

“Always, Gin,” Skylar tugged on a bit of her foster’s sister long hair. “What about you, hmm? Are you going to pine away for me?”

“Are you kidding? I’m going to use your side of the room to store my Quidditch gear. I reckon I’ll be captain this year, too, with Harry off exploring.” Hermione shot Ginny a sharp look and threw a silencing charm at the door, but Ginny ignored her. She was focusing on keeping her voice light, again. Skylar didn’t need her Legilimency to know Ginny was remembering the day of Dumbledore’s funeral and wishing it hadn’t ended the way it had. Ginny was not naïve enough to think their relationship would come before the responsibilities Harry imagined for himself, but she had hoped they would have more than a few months together before Dumbledore’s schemes caught up with him. Skylar tugged once more on Ginny’s hair, this time to pull the other girl out of her own mind.

“Well, give Slytherin a fighting chance for me, will you? Don’t trounce them too badly.”

“Are you kidding? We’re going to destroy them,” Ginny boasted, collecting herself. “I’ll send you a handkerchief along with the final score of our game.”

“Brat,” Skylar accused fondly.

“Do you know how you did on your exams yet?” Hermione interrupted the sibling quarrel. “I know OWLs results don’t come for a week or two yet, but have you received your NEWTs scores, Skylar?” While they talked about various exams and subjects, Skylar watched the bookish girl across from her. Had it been anyone else, Skylar would have thought they would be bored and their enthusiasm forced. Hermione Granger, however, was a different story. Her dark skin was flushed and while they debated Arithmancy theory, she shoved her frizzy dark hair out of her face repeatedly before impatiently tying it into a messy bun on top of her head. Jealously colored her interest and Skylar knew it was because she, unlike Ron and Harry, would miss her education while they were away. This would have been her NEWTs year and she would have received Outstandings on every subject she attempted, but instead, she would be off plotting with the others.

Hermione had shown up at the Burrow the evening after they had all returned from Hogwarts. She had had a full trunk at her side and had broken down into tears the second Molly asked how long she would be visiting for. Ron had been the one to catch her in a hug so tight his ears had burned hot red when Fred and George teased him about it later. However, rather than ask more questions, Molly and Ron had taken the girl inside, made her tea with tea and then set her up in Ginny and Skylar’s room and sent her to bed. No one, expect perhaps Ron, knew what had happened between Hermione and her parents and Skylar refused to trespass in the girl’s mind so the secret remained a point of speculation around the Burrow.

Eventually, Molly came through again, this time to tell the girls to go to sleep; they had their dress fittings for the wedding in the morning and it wouldn’t do to have bags under their eyes, would it? The lights were shut off, Hermione’s page turning stuttered off and Ginny’s light, humming snores filled the room. Ignoring the ache behind her eyes that promised repercussions in the morning, Skylar flicked her wand at the ceiling and dots of light appeared, imitating the stars that were too hidden with clouds to see that night.

While she waited for exhaustion to overwhelm her, she considered Fred and George’s present once more. She hadn’t been back to America once since she had left six years earlier. Her parents had made sure she knew she was no longer welcome.

They had been so proud of her when she was little. She had excelled in her elementary classes, often surpassing her peers, and they had doted on her continuously for it. But accidental magic showed up from time to time and it worried them. When the witch from Ilvermorny School of Magic showed up on their front door step and explained that Skylar still had the capacity to be something wonderful, that her quirks would only help her, Skylar had begged to be allowed to go and study magic, but her parents were suspicious of sorcery. After all, their scriptures said that magic was of the devil.

After weeks of Skylar begging as prettily as she could, they had made her a deal. They gave her one year to study. They were sure that during that time, she would change her mind after being exposed to a taste of that paganism. Skylar, however, was sure that in that year, she could convince her parents that magic could be good. In the end, they were all wrong. Skylar refused to stop practicing magic so they sent her away, worried she would corrupt their younger children. Skylar ended up in England with stolen money and a Ministry woman who escorted her to an orphanage and told her she would be attending Hogwarts. On the Hogwarts Express, she had met Fred and George Weasley who, after a week or two of observation, decided that Skylar’s being sorted Slytherin did not make her evil. When they found out about her family, they had dragged the issue to their parents and, in their infinite kindness, Molly and Arthur had decided to bring the little lost girl into their home.

As much as Skylar loved her foster parents, brothers and sister, she missed her family back in America. For all they had abandoned her, she loved them. Of course, Fred and George, with their abundant insight had realized just how much she missed them and were providing her the means to see them again. They wouldn’t want to see her, she knew, but she could at least check on them and set up protections to guard them. If she did it right, they would never need know she had been there.

Besides, she had never been to the Statue of Liberty. Surely the twins would agree to stop there as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos or a comment before you go. I welcome constructive criticism as well as praise so whichever. Or if you want to say 'hi', I'm cool with that too!


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